Star Wars: Starkiller

With one thrust, I killed with my lightsaber the last of the giant spiders that had come my way in the undergrowth of the forest. They were abominable creatures, with large red bodies and irrationally insistent. They had tracked me for at least a kilometer, until they managed to corner me.

At first when I had landed I wondered why in the tangled forests of Kashyyyk there were no dangerous creatures. It was then that the five giant spiders emerged out of nowhere at once, swinging on thick strands of web, open jaws dripping venom.

With that encounter I became more cautious, so covered in greenish stains due to the fluids that had jumped on me when I finished with the giant arachnids, I left the undergrowth behind and headed towards a kind of clearing in the forest, this one seemed to have been abandoned long ago.

Once I got into it, I managed to make out something, at the same time that I felt that inside me the force was getting louder and louder.

A wooden house.

'Just like in my vision.' I thought as I quickened my pace to the hut.

The cone of the larger hut had split as it fell.

There was an obvious entrance through the crack. My breath caught as I realized that it looked like someone had forced their way through. With the difference being that there were no regular spirals of blaster fire discernible there. Those signals were straight lines, curving only slightly at the ends.

It had not been burst, but cut.

He blew a gust of air that combed the tangled clearing. Something stirred among the ruins of the hut. The movement had not been caused by one of Kashyyyk's many predators. It was a piece of billowing cloth. He tilted his head toward the shadow and saw the remnants of a tapestry tangled in a loose plank. On the cloth was a symbol, this one was very similar to the one I had seen in my vision, this one had a circular shape with three points raised upward that resembled a flame.

In fact, looking at it closely it looked strangely similar to the symbol of the old republic.

As I stepped inside the hut, a surge of dark energy enveloped me, as if the very air itself was saturated with intense, repressed emotions.

The place was not simply dark in the literal sense; there was something in the atmosphere that weighed on me, a melancholy that seemed embedded in the walls. The air was thick, almost tangible, as if time had slowed down as I crossed the threshold. My breathing became heavier, and each step seemed to echo with echoes of a tragic past. I could feel it in my chest, like an inescapable pressure that almost forced me to retreat.

It was then that I saw it. Something changed. A shadow crossed the cabin, plunging it into an even more oppressive gloom, as if a huge cloud had suddenly blocked out the sun. There, among the dark corners of the place, a silhouette slowly emerged, its intimidating and powerful form standing out like a specter out of my worst nightmares.

The figure was covered in heavy armor, with a dark and menacing design. Its helmet had an alien feel, reminiscent of Ubese masks, but with a T-shaped visor that evoked the Mandalorian style. The armor's multiple plates were jagged, with sharp edges and details that looked more organic than fabricated, as if the armor itself were alive.

"Who are you?" I managed to ask, my voice steady but barely audible against the heavy silence of the cabin. My hand was already on my lightsaber, and I activated it in an instinctive motion. The distinctive hum filled the space, briefly illuminating the walls with a crimson flash. But before I could even take a step, the figure disappeared in the blink of an eye. Not a trace remained, as if it had never been there.

Before I could process what had just happened, a wave of pain shot through my mind, as if someone had plunged a dagger into my consciousness. A vision hit me brutally, overflowing my mind with images that came and faded so fast I could barely take them in.

First, I saw a group of people I didn't recognize. One of them was a human girl, with brown hair and a determined expression, someone who looked to be the same age as me. Then, the scene changed. I saw a planet I knew well: Alderaan. In the blink of an eye, the planet exploded in a blinding burst of light, leaving nothing but ashes floating in space.

The impact of the explosion gave way to a series of images that followed each other like an uncontrollable whirlwind. A flag, waving in an invisible wind, adorned with a peculiar symbol: a central circle from which radial points emerged, a representation of a dark sun or a corrupted star. Another image appeared immediately after: a Zabrak holding a double light sword, his gaze fierce and defiant.

The visions continued unabated. Now he saw a world he recognized from previous fragments: a desert planet, its surface marked by a valley adorned with giant statues of hooded figures. Then, a crypt. Its entrance seemed to be guarded by an ancient power, with symbols he could not decipher. And finally, the most disturbing image of all: a tall, imposing figure, reinforced by an alien armor.

That armor was dark, with shades that fluctuated between black, purple and red, as if its surface was alive and in constant movement. It was covered with bumps and cracks, with organic details that gave it an insectoid and alien appearance. Although the figure remained motionless, the mere presence of its image in my mind filled me with a deep unease, as if its gaze could traverse time and space to fix on me.

The vision faded as quickly as it had come, but left behind a brutal impact. The pain in my head was unbearable, as if thousands of needles were piercing my mind at the same time. My hands shook, and in a clumsy, automatic movement, my lightsaber slipped from between my fingers. The weapon fell to the ground with a thud, extinguishing instantly.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but only succeeded in hyperventilating. My chest rose and fell rapidly as my body struggled to stabilize after the emotional shock. I inhaled, exhaled, over and over, desperately, as if trying to purge the intangible weight that was pressing down on my spirit. It was at that moment that I heard it.

"I didn't want this future for you."

A muffled voice, as if from another world, a whisper that echoed in the still air of the cabin. I turned with a jerky movement, the startle coursing through me like an electric shock. Instinctively, I bent down to pick up my fallen lightsaber, igniting it in one swift motion. The blade illuminated the gloom with its crimson glow, casting dancing shadows on the cabin walls.

There, in the darkest corner, a figure emerged. His presence was as tangible as it was unreal. A man with a hood covering his face stood, his eyes fixed on me. His silhouette was marked by the weight of years and battles. This one wore a wookiee belt crossed across his torso, a detail that evoked stories of another time.

Without thinking, I lunged at him, my saber raised high, ready to strike. But something stopped me in my tracks. I recognized him.

It was him. The figure who had appeared in my visions during my confinement in Mustafar. The man who had become a symbol in my mind, who I thought was my father.

"I didn't want this future for you. I'm sorry, Galen." His voice was a whisper laden with sadness, each word hitting me like a hammer. "Still, I know that no matter what path you choose, you will do the right thing. Take care of yourself son."

My hands shook. The lightsaber, once firm in my grip, now seemed to weigh like a stone. I stood petrified, unable to move, unable to respond. His presence was overwhelming, not because of his threat, but because of the emotional charge he brought with him. My eyes followed him as he slowly turned, walking into the shadows that seemed to embrace him.

"Wait, father!" my voice came out as a choked cry, a desperate attempt to stop him.

Suddenly, he was not the assassin trained under Vader's hand. He was not the man who had murdered several Jedi and survived countless encounters with the Empire. He was a boy, frail and desperate, trapped in the middle of a cabin bathed in gloom and laden with the echoes of spilled blood.

"Father, NO!"

He didn't stop. The Jedi knight, my father, kept walking into the gloom, his figure slowly fading away until he disappeared completely. My cry echoed through the empty hut, a plea that went unanswered.

As the last shadow swallowed him up, something inside me snapped. My lightsaber went out with a dull crack, falling back to the ground. I collapsed to my knees, unable to hold on any longer. My head fell forward, the strands of my hair covering my face, and a guttural, primal scream escaped my throat.

It was a cry of pain, of frustration, of loss. It was the cry of a child who had been abandoned, of a man facing a fate he did not ask for. And as my voice echoed in the solitude of that cabin, I felt the tears begin to fall, hot and heavy, tracing a trace of humanity on a face that had forgotten what it was to be vulnerable.

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